One day, Olfred came to find me, his face grave but tinged with a satisfied gleam.
He told me that the crystals had been found, that the beast had been slain, and that, in recognition of these successes, the lord was planning to organize a ceremony in my honor.
An official reward, laden with pomp and politics, where it would not only be a matter of gratitude, but also of alliances, weighted glances, and silent promises.
The visible part of a debt that was never truly forgotten.
That day, I had laid down my weapons, abandoning for a time the harshness of the warrior.
I had taken care to shave, to trim my beard precisely, and to discipline my unruly hair.
When I finally looked at myself, dressed in my kimono with elegant and sober lines, I easily recognized the effort made to conform to the finery.
